Reflected Irony
by Artemisa-arcanum
Summary: Harry ponders on the prophecy and finds out more than he bargained for. Before HBP but not really AU for the most part.


Summary - Harry ponders on the pophecy and finds out more than he bargained for.

Disclaimer - All characters belong to the talented J.K.Rowling and the nice people at Warner. The plot is inspired by her work except the parts that are not so good. But if she who owns HP likes this, she can keep it.

Background - Hopefully, something like this will happen in HBP.

**Reflected Irony**

He walked through the corridors without really paying much attention, feeling like some caged creature. Harry had thought that coming back to Hogwarts without Umbridge here would be like coming home again. He'd been wrong. Hogwarts was much a prison like Privet Drive was. He felt watched everywhere he went. Ron and Hermione barely stepped away from his side and other DA members had taken to do the same. The staff's watchful eyes could be noticed at almost all times. Running into him outside of classes seemingly by accident, but he was sure it was design.

He couldn't blame any of them. They were worried about him and probably acting under Dumbledore's orders in the case of the teachers. He could understand the need of it, but he still felt pressed on all sides. Trapped. They all expected too much of him.

Worse of all, the meditation exercises that were part of his occlumency training had been nearly useless since he came back. Between the magic levels and the amount of people around him, it was almost impossible to clear his mind. He'd never thought he'd actually miss something from Privet Drive, but he did. The fact that his relatives went out of their way to steer away from him had helped him when he had started practicing on his own. Here, his mind was in a turmoil and he could feel the press of Voldemort's mind against his, more powerful than ever. The nightmares were getting worse each night.

If only he could find a place where he could clear his mind and settle his thoughts.

A door suddenly appeared on the wall to his right. The familiar tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy could be appreciated on the opposite side. Even with Hogwarts capricious architecture, doors didn't appear or disappear in front of your eyes. He realized he'd wandered by the Room of Requirement by chance and now the room had probably responded to his need.

He was sure he would not find the usual DA training room on the other side and was curious as to what the room had interpreted as his current need. Shrugging away any concerns regarding quirky magical rooms, he opened the door.

It was a classroom size space softly lit by a score of candles. The colors were muted, the walls looked plain and seemingly edgeless. The floor seemed to be made of a soft and springy material which gave away slightly under his feet. There were no windows, but the air was fresh. He went inside and let the door close behind him. He could barely see where it joined the wall. It felt clean without being bare. Nothing stood out to distract your eyes and mind. The ideal meditation room.

He felt calmer as he walked towards the center of it and noticed that the usual groaning sounds of the castle were gone. Unbroken silence surrounded him, he could no longer tell he was in a building with hundreds of other living beings in it.

Sitting down on the floor he let the peace of the room permeate him while the chaos of his mind leaked out. He started on the simplest breathing exercise and found it refreshing beyond his expectation. He let his mind find it's center and lost himself in the trance effortlessly.

Harry let his senses come back gradually. He was aware that a long time had passed. Probably a couple of hours. The longest he'd ever been in that state of mind. He felt much better and knew that he'd be able to rest that night. His worries and concerns were still there, as was the ever present burden of the prophecy. He had not forgotten them, but somehow after really clearing his mind, they always seemed more manageable. Probably an illusion, but he'd take it in this case.

He laid back on the floor enjoying the peace around him. He wondered how the room actually worked. How it would know what someone needed and provide it. What would happen if two conflicting needs were in the same corridor? Would the strongest win or would it try to find a compromise? What if someone else wanted something while it was in use? What if the need changed while you were inside? Would it change around them?

How to know what anyone wants anyway? _What do I really want and need?_ He wished there was a way to know that. _Does it really matter what I want anyway?_ A bloody prophecy had been made and Dumbledore was protecting him for it (to the point of caging him) and Voldemort wanted to kill him because of it (typical obsessed psychopath). His own desires were unimportant to either side of the confrontation. He was trapped in the middle of it. A pawn. Even if he knew what he wanted, it would probably not help him.

He sighed and rose to leave before Dumbledore sent out search parties for him. As he turned around, he noticed something on the far side of the room. Something he was sure had not been there when he had walked inside. A tall rectangular shape partially covered by a sheet was leaning against the wall. He moved closer and recognized the ornate carvings of the base.

The Mirror of Erised. Why was it here? He realized that he had an answer to one of his previous questions. The room _would_ change around you if you changed your needs and wants. He had wondered how he could know what he really wanted and the mirror that showed your heart's desire had been called up.

He walked closer to it, glad for the cloth covering the surface. He'd spent several nights in his first year in front of the mirror looking at his parents. His family.

What would he see this time around? Somehow, he knew he would not see his parents again at this point. As you grow and change your desires change too, after all. He knew he would not be able to see them again in this plane, he'd seen them briefly one terrible night in a cemetery and that would have to be enough until he passed away himself.

Would he see Sirius? He missed his godfather terribly, yet he didn't think he'd see him in the reflected image of the mirror. As with his parents, Sirius had passed on. He held on to Luna's belief that you would again see those who crossed over, it was a poor consolation, yet consolation it was.

He thought of the prophecy. Would he see himself defeating his enemy? Would he see himself as powerful and deadly? A shudder went through him as this imagined scene played out in his mind's eye. What if that was what he really wanted? Power? Power to kill Lord Voldemort? The ability to kill? He knew perfectly well his current uncertainty lay in his belief that he was not able to kill anyone, even someone like Lord Voldemort. The thought sickened him.

Would the reflection be something more inconsequential? What if he saw himself with Cho as he had wished once? Maybe he really hadn't given up on her after all. How pathetic.

Worse still, what if he saw that his heart's desire was... Hermione for example. That would be disheartening to know, especially since he was sure that Hermione and Ron belonged together. Knowing something like that would drive a wedge between him and his friends.

What is he saw himself dead? He'd said once he wanted out, shouted it actually. That he wanted everything to end. To be over. Nothing would give him that more surely than his own death. He'd contemplated it during the summer more than once. He wasn't really sure what had stopped him. _Death would be an escape_. Was escape what he wanted?

His thoughts drifted to Dumbledore. What if he saw himself taking his revenge on Dumbledore for using him and caging him? The headmaster might claim he cared for him, yet the fact remained that he had kept him in the dark and hoped to use him to defeat Voldemort. Treated him like a mushroom. He still resented the old wizard, much as he knew he owed him his life. Maybe what he really wanted was to be powerful enough to finish off _both_ Voldemort and Dumbledore.

His shaking hand reached for the mirror's surface and grabbed a piece of the cloth covering it. He hesitated, knowing that once he saw the reflection there was no turning back on that knowledge. _Come on, Gryffindors are supposed to be brave, _his inner voice goaded him. _True. However, we're not especially known for self-awareness, _he admitted. Making his decision, he steadied his hand and made his grip secure. Good or bad, he needed to know.

He pulled the sheet off.

The polished surface of the mirror gleamed and shimmered for a moment and then took shape.

He saw himself.

Harry Potter stared at his own reflection without understanding until he noticed the details. He was looking at an older self. As his reflection meet his eyes, an unseen breeze moved the hair and he could see the forehead. His scar was missing.

_Well, that wasn't so bad. I really want to get rid of my scar._

The reflection changed and now he saw this older - unscarred - self in a group of people. A party. A wedding. A very familiar looking couple dressed as the bride and groom. They looked like they had eyes for no one else.

_I desire that my two best friends get married?_

The scene changed again and he saw himself dancing with someone he couldn't identify, her face was hidden away from him. But his older self seemed quite taken with her.

_I want to meet someone I could care about?_

The scenes started to change rapidly. He saw himself with friends. At what seemed his work. Traveling to exotic places he had only read about. He saw himself talking to a group of Hogwarts students. He saw Remus. He kept seeing himself with a woman who never showed her face. It was always hidden by a hat, or a scarf. Her hair color seemed to change with the settings, from a deep brown to a golden auburn. Harry felt sure it was the same woman from the way she moved, familiar yet unknown to him. Then he saw himself at his own wedding. A house. Children. A home.

_I want my own family?_

Scenes kept changing. He saw himself grow older. He went to christenings and funerals. He was at home and at work. He had vacations. Travels. He saw himself in a classroom. As a teacher. As a student. He saw scenes that represented a full life.

Realization came like a flash of lighting. _I want to live. I want to survive. I want a future. I want to get older. I want a family. I want to experience everything._

He started to laugh at his own blindness at what the mirror had tried to tell him from the start. He laughed louder at the irony of it. _The-Boy-Who-Lived wants a life._

The scenes shimmered away and he saw himself again - the missing scar Harry. His reflection was looking back at him with a half-smile and a lightly rebuking look. As if saying 'What are you waiting for?'

He remembered Dumbledore's words _It shows neither the past not the future, only our deepest desires_. Well, now that he knew what he wanted, all that was left was go out and get it. He would not get a life standing in front of the mirror. With a last smile towards his reflection, he covered the mirror leaving it as he had found it. He then crossed the room and opened the door.

"Thank you," he said to the room as he left it. He was sure the room had understood that too.

_Neither can live while the other survives_. The words of the prophecy rang in his mind as he returned to Gryffindor tower. To his friends. He would not place his life on hold just because there was some psycho after him, because of a prophecy. If he did that, waited until the prophecy caught up with him, he would have no reason to face it, much less overcome it.

He chose to live.


End file.
